Father-brother and son-brother and Father
by WarmDogFur
Summary: Selim Bradley, local shadow child, notices that his dad, King Bradley, local dictator, has been acting in a way he feared seeing. Normally children don't like to see their dads mad, but in Selim's case, not seeing the embodiment of wrath acting as he should was truly terrifying for reasons he couldn't explain - couldn't until his dad gave him his first hug. Angst/fluff/Normalverse


**haha yeah**

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Selim Bradley, or Pride as he preferred to be called - _well, realistically speaking more people knew him as Selim, a name he had recently taken a new liking to since that one street artist who drew tiny, colorful, two-legged animals told him his name backwards was similar to that of a flying fox _– had spent the last twenty minutes staring at his little brother/not-quite-adoptive father as he read one of those picture books in his study and murmured every time he turned a page.

"What's been happening to you lately?"

Führer President King Bradley, or Wrath as he had been baptized by his also not-quite-adoptive father, acknowledged the not-really-a-little-boy question with an inquisitive hum, yet at no point his gaze abandoned the black and white pages.

Selim had many good reasons to consider his younger brother had contracted some sort of mentally debilitating disease as he hadn't been as wrathful as he normally was these past few… days? Had it been weeks? Selim couldn't tell for sure, but he had noticed a myriad of changes affecting the mustached man; changes that weren't necessarily negative, simply… weird.

For example, what kind of state leader wears oversized pajamas adorned with drawings of dogs, sits on the floor to read what caricatures that spend their time attacking each other have to say and, after almost a six decade streak of being emotionless and acting like a human exclusively when it was necessary, decides to start expressing his feelings freely? With a name like Wrath you might think his range of emotions would be limited to anger and its variations, yet that would be a mistake. He had been awfully supporting, encouraging and affectionate with… everyone.

Would you believe someone that holds the title of führer would grin at his soldiers, give them a thumbs-up, and tell them to "do their best, but don't get too tired?" You should, because lately that had become a common interaction for Wrath. However, that wasn't the worst part; it was at home where he became a creature his own son-brother was unable to recognize. Acting all friendly with his servants and bodyguards, telling the immense majority of them to go home and spend time with their families, keeping no more than two or three around at a time to help with chores and the like, attempting to do things like cooking and washing the dishes himself... both as leader of Amestris and as homunculus, such actions were beneath him.

And if that wasn't enough, he had gotten too lovey-dovey with his wife, which wouldn't be too strange if he were a regular old human, but as far as Pride was concerned, the only time Wrath kissed that woman was when they got married. He could excuse the marriage itself since the populace would prefer a leader that seemed like a family man and transmitted a sensation of stability and balance so they wouldn't see him exclusively as a ruthless boss, yet committing so much to the role when there was no audience to witness it was something Selim wasn't familiar with. Now, that man sure seemed to love hugs; so much so that even the three hundred year-old little boy had been a victim of his shenanigans.

The previous night Pride decided to bother his little brother just a tiny bit as a way to punish him for acting like a regular old chump, running into his apparent parents' room crying, claiming he had had a nightmare, and thinking of something that would at least keep the younger homunculus awake. Just as he expected, Mrs. Bradley invited him to join the couple's bed, but his plans for brotherly torture vanished the moment the mustached man patted the sheets and said "c´mere champ, get comfy." That wasn't supposed to happen; neither Wrath nor King Bradley should have reacted in that manner, but it was too late for little Selim. The bed was made, and he'd have to sleep on it.

He obliged, showing as little reluctance as he could, and found a comfortable spot between the two adult bodies. His position wasn't a prideful one, but at the bare minimum the backfired punishment he'd have to endure allowed him to lie down. It wasn't too terrible, or so he thought until he felt a warm, burly arm carefully wrapping his torso from behind, pulling him closer to his younger brother – the panic he felt was unprecedented.

Since there were no sources of light in sight, the boy couldn't use the shadows they'd cast to keep Wrath away from him. He thought about squirming away, getting up and say he was all better and go back to his room, or jumping out the window and disappear forever, but he couldn't follow through with any of those ideas.

The moment King Bradley kissed the back of his head and whispered "it's okay, little man, you're safe here" his body went limp. His respiration became erratic, unable to control how much he inhaled and exhaled, and his eyes began watering. He could feel his lower jaw trembling, and whatever shape his mouth was drawing couldn't be too pretty; he felt the corners of his lips rising, yet he wasn't smiling. He did his best trying to silence his sobs, burying his head against the pillow while his thoughts became a tangled mess of questions and negatives as he could but didn't want to understand what was happening to him.

But he could feel it. Something within him breaking, something surfacing; something he feared, something he desired. Something the pride he had been named after and had driven him to reject so much all throughout his life couldn't hide any longer, soaking his entire being in an unfamiliar warmth, eliciting a sensation of both calm and trepidation as the body he inhabited decided to act on its own, turning around and burrowing itself in the führer's chest. Selim knew his tears would wet his dad-brother's pajama shirt, but at the time none of them seemed to care.

The older was solely able to muster enough self-control over his untamed thoughts as to wonder why King was behaving that way, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask verbally. However, the younger wasn't unaware of the situation either, but he had never been the best at comforting people; all he could think of to help Selim calm down was changing the position of the hand that had previously found a resting place over the smaller torso and running his fingertips up and down the apparent child's back.

Usually that worked wonders, at least for him. His wife had done that to him quite a few times, and while he wouldn't ask her to do it, he absolutely adored the pleasing and relaxing sensation. It was like having your back scratched while being slightly tickled, and if you asked Wrath, it was one of the greatest things humanity had come up with.

After experiencing it himself, Pride would agree. He didn't have to enunciate to let the mustached homunculus know either; first, his breathing normalized, then, his silent crying ceased, and shortly after he was fast asleep. The führer had done a good job.

However, resting didn't mean anything was over.

When the older awoke the following morning he found he was strangely at peace. His position hadn't changed; he could still feel his dad-brother's body covering part of his. He could hear him breathe, discern his movements under the sheets, smell him, and while normally he wouldn't have even allowed for such a thing to happen, he just… enjoyed it. It was calming, reassuring, and a part of him believed that it also was humiliating; Pride, the first homunculus no less, was enamored with a sense of protection that rendered the entire concept of his existence useless, and it had been provided by none other than his youngest brother.

But at the time he didn't care.

Wrath was awake as well, although his early morning thought process didn't include much questioning of his own actions, just the realization of having Selim's toes brushing against his left knee.

When his single emerald iris greeted the world around them for the first time that day, the owner of the two seemingly expectant black ones that met it lunged himself at the larger body, hugging him tightly as a way of saying 'good morning.' And while previously the shorter had complained about the führer's newfound affection, that didn't mean he couldn't be a hypocritical liar; he did not hate it at all.

Bradley senior reciprocated the action without hesitation, asking the other if he had slept well and if he had had any more nightmares, to which the addressed child responded with a comically exaggerated nod and a negative head shake respectively. It didn't take long for the sudden playful demeanor of the one that was supposed to be arrogant to infect the younger, and a minute later King was pretending to eat Selim's face, munching and pecking and blowing raspberries on the smaller cheeks, all the while the shorter giggled and bounced joyfully as he exclaimed the führer's mustache tickled him.

Right then they heard the click of a camera shutter, and when they turned to look at the now open hallway door, the pair found the one person missing from that bed. Mrs. Bradley had awoken before the homunculi, and when she saw the two men of her life in such an adorable position she just knew she had to immortalize that moment; she had done so, but she wanted more, preferably from every angle she could reach, and after obtaining more film to etch with King and Selim, she found them awake and cheerfully lively.

She was enjoying their interaction in her own right; not only did she welcome her husband's recent change of demeanor, but also that their adoptive son genuinely enjoyed being with them. She didn't have to observe from a distance, though; both homunculi invited her to join them and now it was her who King and his mustache were trying to devour.

And just like that, her family went from 'good' to 'ideal, movie-like, this might be a fever dream but please let me die here.' She could get used to it: a husband that with age was leaving his whole 'I'm cold and important, grrr' shtick behind, and the sweetest of boys that had gladly welcomed the idea of being their son. Of course, she'd love them any way they were, but a more accessible partner and an adoptive son that wouldn't see her as a stranger were immensely desirable.

She too had been happier lately.

Nevertheless, their routine had to commence; the big boy had a country to run, the small one had thingies to learn, and she had her own matters to attend to, yet her glee wouldn't cease. Mrs. Bradley kept noticing small things changing, for example King's hair; that morning he decided not to use gel, simply style it a bit with his bare hands, which made him resemble that colonel… Mustang, she believed it was, but with shorter bangs. She wouldn't say that out loud, though; she was aware of the rivalry between the two, as King had mentioned his arrogance quite a few times. As far as she was concerned, no other man could be a better leader than her husband.

And their day began! It developed normally for the most part, nothing particularly interesting happened to any of them, or that had been the case until the Bradley matriarch received a call from her maternal family. The plans she had been making to spend the weekend with her favorite boys would have to be put on hold; an aunt of hers had passed away, and she had no choice but to attend the wake, the funeral, and possibly the subsequent mass.

The führer didn't have the chance to insist on going with her; she originally was from Mebbo, a town up North that didn't have much to offer other than gossiping neighbors and mediocre vegetables, and she knew bringing King with her wouldn't be a good idea. After her husband became Chief of State, her family began to assume she considered herself too good to mingle with them, which only worsened their already strained relationship. This funeral however she couldn't skip; that woman had raised her like a mother, she believed attending was absolutely necessary, but she didn't seem sad in any way. The woman was close to a hundred years of age; at that point her death simply confirmed she wasn't immortal.

King Bradley wasn't the only member of their family who could be cold. The life she led had taught her to choose her priorities conscientiously, and a handful of people who she just happened to be related by blood weren't at the top of her list.

In any case, she wouldn't let her husband leave his duties unattended, and she refused to drag Selim with her to such an event. Not only was it something grim that barely affected the boy, but her relatives didn't know of his existence, and she planned on keeping it that way.

Of course, that was one of the things Wrath loved about her; her ability to be an assertive leader when she needed to. Seeing that side of her was extremely rare, but the führer was one of the few fortunate enough to do so; they didn't argue often, but none of the times they did could the man win against her, and for some reason that felt reassuring. Who knows, perhaps she'd be the next führer president; not many could rival her hidden strength…

Mrs. Bradley packed what she deemed necessary and left after interrupting one of Selim's lessons; she had to say goodbye to her boy and make sure the servants that would stay with the child would take care of him. She'd see to their public executions if that wasn't the case.

And that's what brought the two homunculi to this moment, with Wrath reading comics on the floor across from Pride, who was supposed to do some silly math homework, although since he was homeschooled it was just… work. But the older was too busy observing the mustached president-dictator acting like a boy the age his humanoid container was supposed to be to pay attention to anything else.

"Seriously Wrath, is your stone weakening? Maybe you caught some sort of human disease? You haven't been hanging out with Gluttony, have you?" While his tone might have sounded mocking, Pride's questions stemmed from genuine curiosity. If anything the führer was the homunculus that looked down on humans the most, for he used to be one and was in charge of many of them. He had experienced firsthand how weak they could be, so seeing him embracing a side Pride believed he had abandoned was, at the very least, unusual.

Not too deep down the mustached homunculus knew this conversation would occur. He was completely aware of everything he had been doing, and there was nothing wrong with him; perhaps with age he had truly matured, maybe his point of view had changed a little, but King Bradley, or Wrath, or whatever you want to call him had never felt better.

"What is it that worries you?" The younger lifted his eyes from his book to look at the puzzled three hundred year-old boy. Unlike many other times during casual conversations, his visible eye was open, and unlike those occasions, his gaze wasn't threatening or particularly sharp. On the contrary, if anything his raised eyebrows made it look inviting, as if telling Pride to be honest about his thoughts.

The schoolboy looking homunculus hesitated. While it was true that he and Wrath had a better relationship than any of the other did with anyone else, their conversations had never delved into their emotional situations; they usually stuck to commenting Father's plans or making fun of some soldier, but few were the times when they discussed their feelings, mostly because they weren't supposed to have any.

However, the Chief of State had a few things to add.

"If we go by last night and this morning, I'd say that you don't dislike my recent behavior too much – you never tried to stop me. I also noticed you observed me for a while after I left; I saw one of your shadow arms scurrying away after I said hello to Mustang."

That event had caught the attention of pretty much the entire military personnel. The colonel had to visit Central to take care of some paperwork his young alchemist protégé had ignored completely; then the two military men crossed paths in one of the base's hallways, and the younger saluted and greeted King in his usual, forcefully formal manner. The older, on the other hand, simply stood there in silence for a solid thirty seconds, wearing a gentle expression and waiting for Mustang to drop his guard, to then clap like that Fullmetal boy did when he used alchemy and place his arms on the colonel's shoulders as he said "you'd make a good führer president, but you'll need a good mustache if you want to lead this country." He continued on towards his office without adding anything else as the younger started to feel his heartbeat in his throat, all color abandoned his body, and he began to emit a strange whistling sound that somehow disrupted radio frequencies.

Since Wrath was so keen on acting funny, Pride decided to join his game.

"I just wanted to see what daddy does at work. There aren't any other children I can talk to during breaks." And so he used his borderline demonic tentacle-appendages to see his dad tease anyone that dared talk to him and take naps during work hours because he had unashamedly used his ultimate eye to finish a couple days' worth of paperwork in a matter of minutes. Aw, little Selim was so nice; not many children do that for their parents.

In return, the younger homunculus offered a warm smile as thanks and a question of his own. "Did you report back to Father? What did he say?"

The duo knew it was pointless to lie to each other, continuing their charade would have been a waste of time, and in a twisted, almost masochist way, Wrath was impatient. Whatever happened to him next, it'd be solely his responsibility, and the constant doubt plaguing his mind only made him more… _eager_. It wouldn't be completely false to say he was anxious and fearful as well, yet he had convinced himself of being above those notions - not so much because he was a homunculus, but because he had put himself in that situation; he didn't have the right to be.

The mustached man expected a positive answer, yet the boy said that he hadn't even mentioned his recent change of demeanor.

_That_ he didn't see coming; he had been showing his genuine emotions unabashedly, not only to people he had a role to play in front of, but also towards another homunculus, letting him know he was as flawed as humans. That wasn't worth reporting?

"Why not? You're supposed to be his informant." The younger's voice was difficult to interpret. Selim could discern real interest, a hint of anger, and something else he wasn't able to register.

Going by his tone alone, Pride could tell something within Wrath had changed more than he had previously considered. When mentioning Father he usually expressed no feelings whatsoever; he stayed neutral if a tad stern when dealing with one of the rowdier homunculi. Given what Pride knew about the younger after decades of working together, he was sure the führer president wanted him to know his feelings towards Father and his goal had changed; Wrath was a great actor and a charismatic character, even the tiniest of modifications to his inflexion had some sort of meaning, and the implications of something so subtle that only the homunculus he had spent the most time with could pick up weren't particularly positive.

"…I only have to report major events, obstacles, losses and such. I don't believe your jokes were of vital importance."

The taller had a new smile to offer, but this one was completely humorless.

"Do you truly think I'm joking?"

"…I'd like to believe so." Pride replied mostly to himself, trying to shoot down any expectation Wrath's actions could have created.

If the younger wasn't joking and had an ulterior motive to act the way he did, then the older had good reason to be worried, and he was sure he did since questioning Wrath had been hurtful.

…

"So you've realized?"

The boy didn't respond, but he was sure he did.

"And you haven't told anybody?"

Again, the addressed homunculus didn't answer, but no; he had kept what he believed he knew about King to himself.

…

…

"Selim, can I tell you something?"

The kid took his time thinking whether he should say yes, but at that point, his suspicions had been everything but confirmed. If the younger was ready to take that risk, he wouldn't stop him.

"Sure."

"I believe a child deserves to love and be loved. I believe a child deserves to make his own choices and make mistakes."

Selim could feel his heart rate increasing and his muscles tensing.

"I believe a child deserves to be safe. I believe a child deserves to be free."

The older's breathing began to falter, exhaling more than he inhaled as his hands trembled at his sides. He found himself unable to lift his gaze from the floor, with the rest of his body equally weakened, leaning forward without him wanting to, lacking the strength to do anything voluntarily but listen to what the man in front of him had to say.

"I believe a child deserves to rebel against his parents. I believe a child deserves to find his own purpose."

Selim's sobs were impossible to silence. Even if King couldn't see his face, he could witness the boy struggling to stay seated, scratching the wood flooring desperately as if trying to dig himself a way out, hearing the pain in his low whispers… he despised himself for putting his brother through such punishment, he could only imagine the self-restraint it took to even listen to him, but it wouldn't last long. He noticed the shadows around them had begun to squirm. It would be over soon.

"I believe a child deserves to get tired."

Fifteen of Pride's shadow arms flew past him like bullets, piercing the thick bookshelves behind Wrath until they reached the wall.

"I believe a child deserves to give up."

Another set of shadow limbs, this time deformed spear-like shapes, stabbed the area that surrounded the younger as Selim's cries devolved into throat-tearing '_why_s' that would go unanswered.

Apparently unfazed, Wrath finished his tirade.

"I don't want this life anymore, Selim. I don't want to be a homunculus anymore."

And at the end, all he could give Pride was a pitiful look accompanied by a barely audible sigh. His confession was supposed to lift a metaphorical weight from his being, yet being aware of the consequences that would follow denied him of feeling any sort of relief. He couldn't stop thinking that he was being terribly selfish; he couldn't abandon his life as a homunculus without abandoning life altogether, and that included his duties, responsibilities, hopes others had placed upon him, those that were foolish enough to love and admire him… and he was forcing Pride to free him from his life of subjugation.

One of the very few times he dared to make a choice of his own and it had to end in such a way. Utterly pathetic.

The older had managed to stand up despite his debilitated limbs, and little by little he was able to raise his head; however, with every movement he made his shadows jolted, giving place to severe spasms that would wreck the place further, making it appear as a real battleground even if only one of them was attacking, but at no point did any of them even scrape the führer.

When his eyes met the other's figure, all he saw was a man on his knees. A silent man with his eyes closed waiting for whatever could come next.

At first King could only hear the heavy steps of small feet and the sound of destruction surrounding him, but as Pride got closer, he was able to discern panting and murmuring that included several insults aimed towards him, yet the one that hurt the most was the least grotesque.

_"You're cruel."_

At that point it made no sense to hide anything from the first homunculus. His trembling lower jaw gave up for just an instant he involuntarily used to inhale, his breath being loud enough to let the shorter know their states weren't too different. And to think Wrath the Furious would die crying.

The moment had arrived; Pride was a few centimeters away from him. There was nothing else he could do.

And then, he felt it. Certain pressure, but no pain whatsoever.

Perhaps taking advantage of the sitting position of the youngest homunculus, the older had decided to use his own hand. Just one, his right one, on the apparent adult's face.

Still, it wasn't painful. Quite the opposite, the sensation was pleasant, delightful, almost… as if he could feel love pouring from it.

For just a second King felt the urge to open his eyes, but that sudden need died when one of the boy's fingers brushed against his nose; he didn't dare, at the very least not seeing his surroundings helped create the illusion of not being watched in such a miserable situation. At the time what he feared the most was being unable to stop himself from asking the older to stop when that wasn't a possibility.

Pride's one hand became two, each one at one of the sides of the face of the most important man of Amestris.

Once again, there was no pain to be felt, only palms that held his jaw and thumbs that decided to explore his features. Was that Pride's way of saying goodbye? Touching the führer's cheeks, chin, wrinkles and such as if he were trying to memorize them? The experience was enjoyable to a degree, yet the man simply couldn't assimilate the sense of calm those hands were emitting. It was difficult enough hearing the older cry and mutter something akin to "after all this time" in a broken voice, but knowing that pain and disappearance would follow only made him more anxious.

However, there would not be any pain to be felt, for Selim was simply caressing his dad's cheeks.

He proceeded to kiss his forehead and try to wrap his arms around the bigger figure, which drove the younger to choke one of his sobs - one that died in his throat with a loud whimper.

"Please, brother… do what you must."

Wrath wouldn't only die crying, but begging as well.

In response to his plea, Pride let his weight fall on top of the larger legs and attempted to tighten his squeeze around the wider torso, allowing his head to rest against one of the führer's shoulders.

The only discernable sound in that room was their jaded breaths.

By that point the younger was engulfed in despair. He wasn't in control of his body anymore, and his arms had decided to imitate his brother and embraced him, pulling him as close as he physically could, while his implorations only grew louder and more desperate.

What King didn't know, though, was that the older homunculus was living a completely different moment. It wasn't until his very last "_please, kill me already!" _that Pride realized what the other was asking him to do.

The child-looking creature was confused; he didn't know how much time they had spent in that position although he was developing certain fondness for it, he didn't know what his little brother was feeling since his emotional behavior had only gotten worse and more complex, but he knew killing wasn't a good way of showing affection. There was simply one thing the shorter could say.

"…huh?"

Pulling himself out of the now less unlikable state he had thrown himself into and stepping back into the real world, Pride took a good look at Wrath and realized there was something incredibly wrong. He felt guilt, and shame, and a part of him wanted to feel somewhat special for seeing the one he believed to be the coldest of homunculi crying, yet he was sure he was responsible for that, so guilt resurfaced again.

"What do you mean? Why would I want to kill you?"

The younger's entire system froze for an instant. Pride wasn't mocking him or dismissing his plea; he was genuinely lost.

It was like pulling back even after going past the point of no return, especially given Wrath believed he should have been plunged into the void some time ago, not pampered like a baby by his little-boy-shaped older brother. Saying he was feeling like an absolute idiot for having to explain what was going on was an understatement; you don't tell an executioner why you have to die after he puts the noose around your neck.

"I'm- I'm a traitor, Pride! My wishes go against Father's goals!"

Now that they could look at each other again and the anticlimactic interruption had eased their moods a tiny bit, hearing Wrath say that was… silly.

"Is that what worries you?" You'd think Pride was used to hear that given he had no reaction at all to such confession, but it simply wasn't as shocking as Wrath seemed to believe.

The younger could only nod. Why wasn't he being impaled? Pride was Father's right hand man, telling him he didn't want to serve him anymore should have gotten his stone crushed immediately.

"You mean it?"

Pride's pointless questions were driving the führer closer to identifying with his namesake.

"I wish nothing more than feeling just like humans do!"

The older couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face.

"Who says you can't?"

Wrath didn't respond.

His expression went blank, and all he did was staring at the shorter whose eyes were glossy, his face red and wet, there was saliva on the corners of his mouth, and somehow he had torn his own clothes with his shadow limbs, of which there were none to be seen any longer. The taller tried to fix the other's look, straightening his shirt and patting his pants in hopes of… he wasn't sure, perhaps making the cuts disappear?

The Chief of State paid close attention to the boy's eyes, and they were Selim black instead of Pride purple. His face had an innocent aura, although some preoccupation was still visible – if he wasn't going to kill him, he had put the older through an extraordinarily stupid, tragic test.

No, hold on – he had put _himself_ through such punishment.

The man stood up, stretched his numb legs after god-knows-how-much time kneeling down, and took a look at the scenery that surrounded them. The room now gave off this cute little Ishbalan civil war vibe, with everything in sight destroyed or at the very least stabbed through, but it had been a few years since that trend had passed so they'd have to find new decoration. Well, on the bright side he could finally choose the furniture for his own study! King wanted one of those grand pianos that are actually just tables with a secret compartment to hide his comics.

He'd also have to buy new ones of those; the books he had been reading had been turned into hamster bedding. But it was his son who did that, children broke things sometimes, it was okay.

Luckily for him he told the servants to leave until later in the afternoon; Selim and he didn't need help eating, he could put on his own bib.

Alright, one thing left to do.

"Excuse me, little man, what did you say?"

After Wrath's quiet, restrained tantrum Pride was fairly sure he didn't have to repeat himself. Yeah, his foster dad's grin was sending chills down his spine, but he wasn't at fault for their miscommunication.

"Don't act like you didn't know. You of all people had to know that whole 'homunculi don't have feelings' thing was a lie." Having verbal confirmation from another homunculus sufficed for Wrath to start tying some ends he had been questioning for a while, but Pride wanted to make sure he got his point across. "You were allowed to keep your real body, and unlike the rest of us, your personality matched the stone you were given; did you lose something else besides your original left eye?"

"I did."

"Organs? Something that was replaced?" Wrath never had the need to say the following out loud, and he was certain Pride already knew, but at that point feeling shame wasn't a reality anymore. The younger pointed at his crotch, hoping to refresh the shorter's memory; the response he got wasn't at all what he expected. "It fell off?!"

"What?! No! The stone made me sterile!"

"Oh." Pride had heard about it, yet he didn't know how exactly that happened since that wasn't a problem for him. "In any case, my best guess is that all that training you underwent before being given the stone allowed your body to use it like an alchemist would."

"Improving my reflexes and stamina instead of transmutations?"

"Yeah. It didn't turn you into a deformed monster, it didn't give you any freakish powers… it just maximized your abilities as a human." Wrath could believe that; he was no Gluttony or no Lust, he had no abilities that went beyond the realm of possibilities for humans, his bare body presented no alterations – not even his Ouroboros was easily visible. "Why else would you have needed to perfect your performance before receiving the stone? If anything your detachment from humanity is acquired - a philosopher's stone should only work as a power amplifier when there's already a strong soul present."

If Father wanted a human to rule over other humans, that one human would have to be truly superior, but still human enough. He couldn't risk choosing an Envy, for example; Wrath didn't have the need to watch his appearance, he still passed as a human because he was one; everything else that made him the homunculus Wrath had been given to him by external forces.

Pride looked up at the pensive führer, and given what situation they were in, he could figure out what was going through his mind; if there was one thing he was sure of was that no one knew his little brother better than he did.

"You're still wondering about your human emotions?" The taller raised his eyebrows and blinked in surprise, which the other took as an affirmation. "I was in charge of watching the facility you grew up in, in case you want to ask."

Wrath was thankful for that, but there was a different question plaguing his thoughts.

"Don't get me wrong but why are you being so… kind?"

"Because I've been a traitor way longer than you have, you just made me give in for good." The younger's visible eye widened. "I was the first homunculus, brother, and when you're humbled by humans shortly after being born you start to question if you really are the embodiment of arrogance."

"Then you too share my feelings?" And of course, the older did. He too was told he had no emotions, but his first twenty years of life weren't torture designed to make him believe that; it didn't take him much to accept that his name didn't match his true self.

"I've been the foster son of many families all throughout my life, and when they insist on loving you, you reach a point where you can't refuse anymore."

Wrath interpreted that last sentence as a hard yes and an indirect request to pick up his brother, and while it wasn't, the shorter welcomed it anyway. Looking like a child offered some advantages among humans, like not having to use his legs much. Sure, he would never grow and his interactions would be forever limited to his form, but he knew how to get free pastries.

"Is that why you were crying before?"

"More or less; I know your dramatic tirade was supposed to be about yourself, but it felt like you were comforting me."

"And why did you destroy my study?"

"…that was an accident. I'm new to this, I don't know how to express what goes on inside me too well yet." That wasn't great. Some would think it'd be wise to stay away from the boy if every time someone touched him he'd wreck the place; Wrath, however, liked the touch of his son-brother and could afford to fix his mansion.

"… and last night?"

"…you reach a point where you can't refuse anymore…" Oh, so it was Wrath who finally broke Pride. "…and the room was dark. I couldn't stop you." And he probably wouldn't have.

"And what about this morning?"

"The heat of the moment, that was just fun. Your mustache is like a tiny lip cushion." For a being that was supposed to represent pretentiousness and narcissism, Pride was awfully sweet. "Were you crying because you thought you were going to die?"

"Not so much dying, but forcing you to do it. I thought you were acting that way because you knew my secret and had to do something about it."

…

"I think we should talk more."

"I agree, it seems the two of us aren't too different after all."

At that point the strangest thing wasn't openly admitting they were immensely emotional creatures or that their superior intelligence wouldn't stop them from misinterpreting the actions of others, but not needing to be on their tiptoes around their own kind. Not even homunculi could trust homunculi; the moment one of them didn't follow the script and Father was informed, some sort of punishment was in order.

"Should I put you down or…?"

"I like being carried. But if you think I weigh too much…"

"No, no, not at all. I thought that maybe you… wanted to be on the floor."

"…if it's of any help, pure humans also feel awkward when doing these things consciously… sometimes."

"Oh, that's fine then."

"So did you... did you really think I'd just go ahead and kill you because mom isn't home or...?

* * *

Well, it took a little while, but the humanoid siblings were able to get over the self-consciousness that admitting their feelings and having them acknowledged supposed. It shouldn't have been a big deal since they were brothers and all that, but they were emotional virgins; one was a novice that had been getting by exclusively improvising and the other had only been a receptacle for what others had to offer. Definitely an interesting match.

While their strange little coming clean session had been fulfilling and rewarding, the duo could feel the repressed stress getting to them. Selim was holding onto his dad-brother's neck after the younger picked him up and he noticed something unusual: relaxed human muscles were not supposed to feel like concrete, but it made sense that the mustached man was more nerve than homunculus or even human. His whole life had been stressful, from the training and therapy he received as a child to 'kill his feelings' to even his most domestic scenarios; up until a little while ago he believed he had a façade to keep up even around his wife.

His everyday routine left little to no space for relaxation, but if he was willing to skip it and the older was there to enable and encourage him, they could go into one of the most fascinating places in the whole Bradley state: their personal hot spring.

Imagine an Olympic pool-sized hot tub dug into the ground to make it look like a natural occurrence that just happened to be within the Bradleys' jurisprudence. As you can probably guess, the thing was an absolute waste, but none other than Mrs. Bradley had the idea to build it, and of course the führer wouldn't deny her of her wish. Back in the day when she first had it installed, she imagined she could spend entire days in there with her husband, but as much as she hated to admit it, his duties took a kind of priority she couldn't rival with.

Nowadays it had become a source of anguish for their servants; they couldn't take baths in it, they couldn't take off their uniforms while working there even if they lost half of their weight sweating, but they had to take care of maintenance, keep it as pristine as humanly possible, and manually adjust the water's pH and mineral components so it would match that of a real hot spring. Again, the Chief of State himself had nothing to do with those orders; the matriarch was the leader in the shadows of their kingdom.

Selim had considered trying the hot spring several times, but he didn't want to do it alone; the place was sort of camouflaged, covered in walls that were designed to make outsiders think a shed or perhaps a greenhouse was in there, and he had discovered the inside was soundproof. If he tried saying something, the sound of his voice would die down a couple meters away from his position. Even he had to admit it was scary, like a little piece of paradise designed for murder.

But going in with Wrath would surely be fun, and he had offered himself to help the younger get rid of his tension – they had signed up for a funny little series of misunderstandings, blushing, uncomfortable questions and forbidden looks.

So, after grabbing Selim's height in towels, leaving a sticky note on the führer's study door that read "horse play got big oops :)" and making sure nobody was even near their private hot spring, the duo entered the warm, humid chamber.

While they shared many physical similarities with humans, they lacked one thing that usually was attached to their appearance; shame and reticence to show their bodies. Their clothes came off as soon as they saw the showers of mandatory use, and it hit them that they had never seen each other naked. They had the blessing to look at each other freely, and their exchange was… common.

The younger discovered his brother lacked any sort of protuberances or orifices below his waist, and the addressed homunculus said that his body was basically a pillowcase; even if he had any they wouldn't be of much use. He, however, used one of his shadows to produce a black, gloomy, eel-like shape that hung between his legs, demonstrating his expertise on human anatomy; he received a look of scorn, interest and hunger from the younger. It wasn't good.

The older observed the quintessential dad-bod of the fifty something year-old but he didn't have much to say. He saw lots of body hair, more body fat than his clothed figure could lead to believe which he found… _alluring_, since it made the taller look softer and more accessible, a couple of scars, and something he didn't have; he pointed at the other's hanging genitals and simply said "useless?" to which King shook his hand indicating that yeah, it kind of was.

Overall, he didn't hate what he saw; if the man was his real dad, he wouldn't mind him tucking him in and telling fantastic tales in his warm, smoky, earthy, collected but powerful, commanding but friendly voice as he slowly drifted to sleep nesting against his burly and well developed but gentle, soft and welcoming body.

It was then that Pride the not-so-arrogant realized he had some soul searching to do and perhaps get some surgery to add appendages that for the first time in his life felt he needed. He wondered if any religion could save him. He also wondered if his limited body would allow him to lick whipped cream off of a porous surface before it softened.

While they were cleaning themselves, the mustached man's hands unconsciously went to wash his wiener, action the shorter saw and judged. Loudly.

He yelled, telling him to not do that in front of him, but the younger wasn't having it. He wasn't doing anything sinful, and even if he wanted, he really couldn't; to prove his point he grabbed a nearby mop, broke the handle in half making its length equal to that of one of his swords, gripped the sheathed tip of his junk and stretched it forward until it looked like a piece of chewed gum stuck to his pelvic bone, and used his makeshift weapon to hit it as brutally as he could while adding in the calmest of tones "not only am I infertile, but I can feel nothing at all in this general area. That is why my wife wanted to adopt: it always looks like a dead worm, its only purpose is allowing me to aim when I have to use the bathroom."

The visual before him hypnotized the child-looking pillowcase, and it didn't but elicit more questions from him. "So it never gets big?" The only answer he received were the splashy sounds of wood smacking wet meat, which stayed at a perfect eighty beats per minute. The adoptive son took it as permission to continue his query. "Not even if you think about…" What would be something acceptable to say? "…your wife ovulating and using perfume?" No, the thing never got big and Mrs. Bradley was a pure, patient, understanding and forcibly celibate soul.

The taller grimaced as he felt a kind of pain he was a stranger to, stretching his mouth so far back that all of his wrinkles reunited under the lobes of his ears. For just an instant he wished he had an ultimate eardrum instead of his ultimate eye so he could make himself deaf forever; being able to see the perverted creature in front of him in slow motion wasn't of any use anyway. He should have kept his eye patch on.

"Does that include your prostate? You could make it work if you stimulate that part." Pride had been doing his research on the human body, but his interrogation gave away how eager he was to put it to practice. The younger only had time to squint when the other decided to add details to what he had in mind. "It's not easy to reach, but I can make my shadow arms as thin and long as I want and they poke and squeeze like the best of them." His hungry grin didn't mix well at all with the innocent boy face he was wearing.

King ceased his self-harm and let the broken mop handle fall to the floor. The loud metallic noise it made brought Selim back to reality, but before he had the chance to repent for his behavior, the mustached man acknowledged his creepy little questioning.

"I tried, but it was pointless. All I felt was pressure; there was nothing to be enjoyed." Before he adopted Wrath into his being, the unnamed subject that ended up becoming führer was forced to learn everything about human anatomy and its functions, and like the curious soul he was he decided to test if what his books said was true. He knew what was up.

However, whatever had taken over Pride wasn't done. His new main directive was teasing his younger brother; he didn't know why, it was sort of a gut impulse. Now a shit-eating smirk had hijacked his expression, and he had completely forgotten to wash that space behind his ears where all the muck accumulates. "So does that mean the most powerful man in the country is a virgin?" As weird as their interaction had been up until then, that was the closest thing to standard brotherly bonding they had done that day.

"No. I grew up surrounded by boys and all of us hit puberty around the same time. Our talk about the birds and the bees included anatomically perfect models, and for a while the one thing all of us simultaneously wanted to rule wasn't a country but any hole we saw. We tried everything the most imaginative ones came up with." Just like the previous night, Pride's plan to annoy the younger had backfired; now it was the taller who showcased a malevolent smile and fixed his eyes on the older, who had become Regret the… regretful. "If you're curious, I can tell you wha-"

Right then, the most human emotion of them all visited Selim: wanting to die. Even if he wished to accept the other's offer, something told him he'd lose a part of himself if he did. As quickly as he possibly could, he summoned a pair of arms from the shadow his own body was casting that grabbed his ankles and hurled him directly into the mass of water they had originally gone there to soak in, splashing as ceremoniously as a stone would if dropped in a cup of tea.

A moment went by, and while King was laughing loudly to himself, the shorter exclaimed the water was great. He performed a miracle hoping to impress the younger, but the secret behind his ability to walk on water was evident; nevertheless, the mustached man took a page from his Dad 101 book and pretended to be flabbergasted, unable to do anything but ask how he was doing that. Pride knew he didn't have to answer, but seeing the other acting like that for his sake made the shadows within him tickle his nonexistent stomach; were these the kind of feelings he had been rejecting his entire life?

He felt like an idiot. He wasn't above any of that; no, he wanted a life in which those sensations were prominent. One in which smiling for a reason that wasn't someone else's demise was normal, one in which he could choose to be something else besides his creator's puppet, one in which spending some quality time with his brother was a common occurrence. Was that what Wrath wanted as well?

Lost in his thoughts the shorter didn't notice the younger diving into the hot spring and swimming underwater in his direction. He didn't fight back when the larger figure captured him, hugged him close to his chest, and swam on his back using nothing but his legs to reach the edge of the heated pool; it was deeper than your average hot spring and the last thing King wanted at the time was doing exercise.

Given his lack of response, Wrath began poking a Selim that continued to lie motionless on top of his chest and asked him if he was still thinking about his teenage escapades. The boy didn't answer right away, but he did have something to say.

"I like this."

And King agreed wholeheartedly.

They did nothing but enjoy the water and each other's company for a while. They didn't have much else to do, and at the time no alternative sounded better. The taller was sure that if he could float as effortlessly as the pillowcase child he'd fall asleep, but the aforementioned boy did have a task to carry out.

"Brother, against the wall."

The mustached leader ignored his order, claiming he wouldn't let him play with his prostate. Pride wouldn't insist much, but he reminded the younger of the multi-handed massage that had brought them to the hot spring in the first place. An instant and a whirlpool later, the larger back was waiting for as many hands as the shadow boy could throw at him; one way or another, Selim would make use of his knowledge on human anatomy.

While his little body floated around, occasionally hitting the edges of the pool, his real limbs were taking care of kneading the toughest of doughs. Every now and then he'd hear King breathe heavily, or moan, or pant after something the older did made a part of his body crack or lighten; it was an enjoyable harmony, especially when his voice cracked along with his tired joints, but it didn't last too long. Pride was effective when it came to work, no matter what his job was, and after ten minutes he couldn't bestow any more relief unto the upper body of the younger.

However, Wrath wanted more.

"Legs?" Was all the younger had to say.

Pride used one of his shadow eyes to observe his little brother, and it was evident the prospect of receiving a massage had enthralled him more than he previously believed. Even his ultimate eye was sparkling in hopes the older would say yes as he tried to imitate the puppy face Selim had mastered when asking adults for gifts. Can a fifty something year-old be cute if he acts like a child? King sure hoped so.

"Aren't you afraid I'll slither inside your body?" His little boy container swam towards the taller as he produced slim threads of shadows that caressed the führer's chest, making themselves indistinguishable from his body hair. "You don't know if I really was joking earlier." His face was completely neutral, so much so that it looked as if even he wasn't sure if he was being serious.

Wrath took a look at the shorter's face but nothing could confirm nor deny if his insides would be invaded by the masseur. As a man with great battle experience he knew he couldn't let neither his men nor his enemies see him doubt about his decisions so he smiled and gave the other a thumbs-up, granting him permission to do what he wanted with his body.

Pride closed his human eyes and sighed in defeat as his bluff had been discovered, and then increased the width of the shadows that were in contact with the larger figure, wrapping him in them and lifting him as gently as he could. It was a sight to behold: a dripping wet middle aged man hanging in midair excited to get a leg rub. Before continuing, Selim had to change positions as his child body was being threatened; the younger's junk was aiming directly at him, and no matter how useless it could be, it possessed an aura that the older couldn't fight against.

The shadows commenced their task, and unlike the previous time, the mustached man was humming as his lower body was being massaged. Pride was careful not to touch any sensitive area, but it didn't matter, the younger wouldn't cease making those throaty sounds. Distracted by those, one of the boy's arms brushed against the sole of one of the other's feet, which forced a new sound out of him: a burst of air the younger wouldn't let abandon his throat, some sort of suppressed involuntary reaction.

Selim observed the hanging man and tried doing it again, obtaining a similar response. He squinted and wondered if he should take advantage of his tactical superiority; he had learnt his brother was ticklish, which could lead to various shenanigans, but he knew overstimulation of certain receptors could also lead to uncontrolled bodily ejections and he wanted no part of that. Dismissing that idea, he went on to finish his original assignment; King was still making noises, though.

By the time they were done, the younger had become a chunk of boneless flesh that had to be propped up by one of the shadow arms of the shorter to avoid drowning. He was incapable of keeping his mouth fully closed as his stress-free face tried to draw a smile he couldn't muster the energy to produce properly, which paired with his half lidded eyes made him look like a lobotomy patient. Pride's conclusion was that his work had been optimal, and his only regret was that he didn't have a camera to immortalize that unique brain-dead face.

For a while silence took over the chamber, interrupted occasionally by the splashy sounds of the duo as they changed postures in the water.

When Wrath returned to his senses and got control over his limbs once again, he asked Pride if he could return the favor somehow. There wasn't much the boy-looking pillowcase could ask for: while his body had pressure and temperature receptors, he could not feel pain, and since he didn't have muscles that could get tired in the traditional sense, getting a massage back wouldn't do much for him. Nevertheless, living as a child had gifted him with information and experiences otherwise he wouldn't have even known existed, and there was one thing someone with King's physique could do for him.

"Giddy up?"

The younger thought the other wanted him to carry him on his back, but he was wrong. The older explained in detail what it was he desired.

The mustached man left the heated pool only to sit near its edge, letting his legs hang before Selim found a seat on one of his thighs. Then the larger helped him stay in place by grabbing his lower belly and pushing down slightly so he wouldn't fall or slide due to their wetness, and once the shorter was stabilized, Wrath began vigorously shaking his leg up and down, making the boy bounce as if he was riding the fastest of stallions.

If anyone were to walk in they would surely call in every state alchemist in existence to assassinate the führer, but while the scene was, at the bare minimum, illegal-looking, the siblings didn't possess the mindset to commit sins against every single god. If anything Pride was glad his container didn't have any bits under his bellybutton; at the speed he was bouncing they'd be reduced to a stain on his taint. On the bright side, the hair on the larger legs offered some extra grip; on a side that wasn't as bright, Wrath's presidential jewels occasionally moved along with his thigh, brushing against the older and making his face twist and distort as he tried to process the sensation. It was… _unique_. But most importantly, they were having fun.

During the improvised ride the younger's field of vision was mostly limited to the back of Selim's head, and it was the only part of the boy he had access to without letting go of his body. He didn't know if it was because they were doing something that wanted to resemble normality between a father and his son, or maybe because he could hear the ancient child giggle with genuine glee and some sort of paternal instinct kicked in, but he couldn't stop himself from hunching over and positioning his head on one of the smaller shoulders and taking advantage of his superior stature to place a quick peck on the kid's cheek.

You'd surely never hear it from King Bradley's lips, but he thought his son-brother's form was cute, and in a handful of cases he even forgot of the characters they were supposed to be playing when they were at home; he did indeed enjoy his role as dad, and since 'Selim' was a recent acquaintance for him as well, he could make the distinction between him and Pride. That day, however, both personas didn't seem too different, although his Selim didn't usually tease him that much…

The apparent child, on his part, put his hands over the larger ones holding him in place and asked the taller to stop. Before King could wonder what it was he had done wrongly, the boy had another question for him.

"Why did you do that?"

His tone was solemn and his voice quiet. Isolated from any other stimuli, the younger could feel his brother trembling between his palms. He didn't get a chance to answer as Pride turned around dramatically and threw himself at the bigger body, entwining his arms behind the führer's neck in an almost desperate manner, his breath becoming a series of short inhalations and exhalations that occurred next to the mustached man's ear.

"I'm not… used to that."

This time Pride was able to stop himself from crying, but the feeling that had taken a hold of his being was still too new for him, and it caused reactions he couldn't control. To think that Wrath of all people was able to show affection to someone like him… it filled his tiny, dark soul with elation, a kind of bliss he was a stranger to.

"I'm sorr-"

"Don't." The boy didn't want an apology. Quite the opposite, if anything he wanted to thank the other. He loved it, and he-

"_I love you."_

…

He didn't know what to do, but given the creature he was, Pride could think of no other way to express what he felt but plainly saying it out loud. Many humans had said that to him all throughout his existence, yet his emotions could never match theirs. His brother was a different story; King was someone he had seen grow and develop from the shadows, someone he had worked with in quite a few missions, the homunculus he got along with the best, and... someone he felt he could trust, someone that made him feel safe, someone that made him feel human.

The kid's thought process froze when the larger hands reached the sides of his torso. Now there was only one word plaguing his mind: 'mistake.'

The younger lifted him until they were at eye level. His expression wasn't the grave wall of bricks he believed he'd see; no, he saw someone clement, a normal man that was never cursed with a philosopher's stone even if his left eye indicated otherwise, whose lips were drawing a tiny, content smile and wouldn't wish to be anywhere else. A man that knew what he truly was and didn't mind in the slightest, a man that was happy to be with him; the man he had found the bravery to become after a life of slavery.

A man whose heart rate had sped up considerably in the last few seconds.

"I love you too, brother."

Given their existence as homunculi, those words were never supposed to leave their mouths, even less with all the meaning and intent they did. But they didn't care, they had chosen to go against the cause they were created for in the first place and become their own persons. From then on their lives were bound to change, and they had taken the first step towards a better life; if they could admit they had feelings, and were able to express them, their allegiance to Father and the homunculi was no more.

So far, the day had been an absolute rollercoaster, and going forward there were many matters they had to discuss and many risks to take. But until then, just like a wanted baby's birth, their situation was a joyous occasion; the creation of bonds, in a sense, also brings new life to the world. They had their own way to celebrate, though; now that they felt like they were allowed, King wanted to pat the head of his son-brother and tell him how cute he was, and Selim wanted to test how durable his container really was by grabbing onto the younger like a baby monkey until his arms gave up.

* * *

Selim and King Bradley felt like they had much to tell each other.

The older learned about the misadventures the führer embarked on when he was still receiving instruction, the way the few military men involved in Father's plans behaved and why they'd be better homunculi than they were, how every now and then he completely dropped his responsibilities to go train with some of the few soldiers willing to spar with him, that he wanted to learn how to cook to impress his family with something tasty, hoping to abandon the pigeonhole of being exclusively a man of bureaucracy and war… in the context of their lives, nothing seemed too extraordinaire, and that was fine.

Selim in exchange told him about the roles he had played in previous families through History, that he had read eighty-five percent of all the books available in Amestris, that he didn't mind looking like a child but that there was a chance an alchemist could create other containers for him to inhabit… again, nothing was too outrageous given their circumstances.

But they couldn't stick only to trivial matters, there was one thing they had in common that they were bound to at least mention.

"What made you go against Father?"

King's case was something that had been developing over time. He had worked with some of the bravest and most determined people in the world, and while his position entailed giving orders he had been ordered to give, he learnt to see how inspiring normal humans could be, standing up after they fall, being able to overcome all sorts of obstacles… and he started to wonder what it was that made Father and the homunculi superior to them. Their brute strength? Their narcissism? Their acquired lack of empathy?

The final detonator that made him want to join the human side didn't happen too long ago.

"I skipped a reunion and decided to go check the new blood. I saw some new recruits training and I convinced them to let me have a match with as many as they chose. When we were done, a boy that couldn't be much older than Fullmetal approached me and asked me to have a one on one spar; he didn't join the others when we fought, and I thought he was being overconfident. I accepted and let him use one of my blades. I must admit he annoyed me; most of his strikes were to test-"

He could have gone on and on telling the older about every tiny detail of their match, but Selim knew nothing about sword fighting; he never had the need to learn, and being a tool himself, he didn't require using another one to fight.

The abridged version included the führer being tricked into losing his temper and, at least in spirit, losing to the boy. It served as a reminder of the power of humankind, its capacity to produce prodigies without having to sacrifice anything, and their ability to adapt and evolve at an astounding rate.

At first the mustached leader didn't give the encounter much importance, but as he walked back to his office, something started to feel off. With every step he took he realized humans weren't only warriors; they had built the ground he was walking on, they had created the clothes he was wearing, they had prepared him to become the Chief of State he was… and he began having an identity crisis.

He questioned his own existence, if perhaps back at the facility he grew up in someone else would have been a better candidate to receive the stone, if human annihilation would imply losing his wife as well, if destruction was all he was good at what good did it pose, if his fated life wasn't anything but a means for someone to do something King wasn't even aware of, and if in the end nothing he did had any real repercussion since everyone that really saw him as a person would perish.

Wrath the Furious was, in reality, a thoughtful man, even if his name could lead to believe the opposite. He desired nothing more than peace, both tangible and of mind, yet his strength lied on his resilience; after a lifetime with no free will, being the hands of people that didn't want to dirty theirs, he was still hopeful that he could be his own person – that there was some humanity left in him.

There surely was, but a façade as contrived and malleable as his took reducing the individual's view of himself to a minimum so it could be replaced with what others wanted him to be, and so when thinking of himself as nothing but a person – not Führer President, not Wrath the Furious – doubt invaded his entire being.

However, his acquired conviction had disappeared, his discipline was faltering, and lacking proper values led him to search for new ones. Mustang, Elric, Hughes… and even his own wife; one common thing drove their actions. _Love_. For their nation, for their friends, their families – and if as soldiers they were willing to take risks, disobey orders and accept consequences for what they believed in, King as their superior ought to lead by example.

And that was what had turned him into a dissident of Father: his admiration for what humans were capable of doing, and the realization that even his role as a puppet was pointless.

Selim found his story moving, it reminded him of a group of boys he observed for quite some time a couple centuries prior during a war. As you can imagine, both sides were trying to convince their progeny to hate the opposite faction, but after a while the kids began to question why they should do that – decision that maybe or maybe not Pride had something to do with. In the end they realized they were normal people, just like them, and didn't have that many differences. They were killed not too long after, but doubting what their masters were trying to make them believe and being brave or thoughtless enough to go behind enemy lines drove them to discover the truth.

And if the older could help it, his brother wouldn't have to go through the dying part.

"You've been around way longer than I have, what's your story?"

Before Selim commenced his tale of enlightenment, he took a more comfortable seat on the larger lap that had become his very personal armchair. King didn't mind it one bit; the boy barely weighted anything, and he was a great partner for practicing how to show affection; hopefully in the future he wouldn't have to be completely naked when doing similar things with others if he chose to, although maybe the führer could normalize public nudity.

In any case, the shorter felt like nothing else in the world mattered when he was in direct contact with his brother. He was aware of the fact that they looked like one of those freaky pictures more and more pregnant women liked to take with their partners, but feeling the touch of another body was worryingly pleasant and calming to him, and that would surely help him recall events. Or perhaps he just liked having his back scratched and his head petted by older, masculine-looking men, who knows.

"My disdain towards Father and his plans began a little over two hundred years ago, after Greed was created. I had been around for… I don't know, a hundred and something years by then? And life didn't have much to offer, really. I went from place to place and observed what humans were up to. Over the span of a hundred years I had time to appreciate them, and while befriending them was difficult given that I didn't have a body, I liked seeing them grow.

Then one day Father summoned me, Lust was a thing apparently, and Greed had just been born. For a while we just walked around, Greed and I; he said he didn't trust Lust, that something about her felt off, and I taught him what I knew about humans. He, however, was different from me; he wasn't satisfied just looking at them, he wanted to participate in their lives, get attention from everyone… he had been alive for a few hours, and he had already been given orders on what to do and how to behave.

Shortly after we were summoned again; Father had tasks for us. I was to do what I had been doing until then, just observe, and then I had to inform him about what I saw. I don't know what it was Father told Greed to do, but he refused to obey, and after a spat with Lust Father told me to fight him and either kill him or make him change his mind.

I lost since back then I didn't know how to use my real body for battle, but he got one idea through my squishy head; why was I listening to Father since there was nothing in store for me? Why, since he only wanted us around for his own benefit? He deflected, and I still think he made the right choice.

As time went on I realized that Greed was right. Father kept talking about how humanity and their feelings were weak and meaningless, how one day he'd reign above all, my duties kept growing in importance and getting more sinister, yet none of us was being rewarded – I was given a body to possess only because it was necessary for my missions. And by the time Gluttony was born, I wanted nothing more but to see Father and his lackeys dead; they killed humans for fun, they mocked them, humiliated them… but I couldn't do much by myself. And as much as he wanted to make us think he had everything figured out, Father kept stumbling directionless until a few decades before you were born."

King understood him well, being forced to act against his will in an environment that would have gotten him killed the moment he said something wrong; it seemed their situations weren't too different. At the very least he was glad Pride too saw the error in their creator's way.

"I must say, I'm still surprised you're not on his side. All this time I've thought you were his… lapdog." He didn't mean to insult the older, but no other word could define the idea of Pride he used to have.

"It's okay, you can say it. It was in my best interest to stay as close as possible to him in case I could find his weaknesses and the chance to take him down."

"Any luck?"

"Not quite, I wouldn't have much of a chance in a fight. I did, however, learn that he misses Hohenheim."

For a second the taller believed Selim was choking, but as it turned out, there was a man with such name.

"You really don't know him? You haven't been to Father's place much, have you?"

"No, not many, only when it is strictly necessary; usually I don't go past the tunnels under Central Command or in a few occasions the fifth laboratory."

"You're not missing much. In any case, that Hohenheim guy was his creator and his only friend before he became a living philosopher's sto-" After hearing his description, the younger recognized who he was talking about immediately.

"Oh, Envy told me about him! He looks like Father but goofier, right?" Pride nodded, that was a good way to put it. The man's skin didn't seem to be paper unlike his creator's.

"And after the guy ditched Father, pops got angry and wanted revenge." That one part intrigued King, but as he learnt, his plan hadn't always been the genocidal sacrifices he knew so much about. "Then he wanted to be his friend again, then revenge, and after a while he wanted to become God. His entire life revolved around that man."

The führer's attention had peaked.

"…do you know why exactly we were created?" Selim smirked; his dad-brother was a very perceptive man.

"To carry out his plans." That much the younger knew, but in this case the shorter wouldn't tease him; he knew what he wanted to know. "I, for example, was an accident."

"Are we really his discarded sins?"

"Do you really think a creature like Father can be pure when he craves nothing but power and he uses others to obtain it?"

No, the homunculi weren't his sins. If anything, they were reminders of what Father was feeling at the moment of their creation. Even if he didn't know how to defeat Father on his own, Pride did learn a few things about the original homunculus that no one else had even heard before.

"Lust was supposed to attract Hohenheim, make him want to go back to Father, but it didn't work.

Greed was a similar attempt, he was supposed to befriend the man, yet our creator's teachings couldn't help him with that so it failed too. I think he was at his loneliest when he created those two.

Envy was a hybrid, I'm still not sure if he had to pretend to be someone Hohenheim would like to bring him to Father or to kill him, but in the end he couldn't even get close to that man; something about his souls being too loud.

Sloth was a desperate attempt to kill the man; our creator was starting to give up and… well, you've heard of Sloth, what was he supposed to do? Run really fast and punch him?

Then Gluttony was another desperate attempt, this time to access the Gate of Truth and make it his own so he could attain whatever it was he wanted – my guess is a new friend, but the only thing you can access through that hungry boy is his stomach."

The führer knew how to count, and there were two important homunculi missing.

"And you?" He had already heard from the shorter than he was an accident, that not many would want a black tentacle monster around, but there had to be something else to it. Like many of their siblings believed, Pride was indeed the closest to Father, but not in a sentimental way.

"Tell me, what if you were discarded blood and performed the greatest human transmutation ever seen, becoming a philosopher's stone yourself? Where does that arrogance, that egotism – that need to prove you're better than any other living creature in such an extreme way come from?"

The sensation the older was describing resulted extremely familiar to the taller, and the speech he had been taught about being proud to be a homunculus came to mind.

He could name that feeling.

"Insecurity." Bingo.

Pride nodded vigorously, tapping the larger thighs he was laying on and happy for but not too surprised of his brother's correct guess.

"As far as I know, my real body sorta looks like his original one. He didn't want to be like that anymore and he got rid of it, but at the same time his doppelganger friend was angry because he had betrayed his trust, and he didn't know what to do next." If that was true the younger could assume the other's lack of a proper shape was also due to Father's uncertainty. There were many things they could assume – the realm of possibilities had expanded beyond being the lackeys of a foolish mastermind.

Now there was only one homunculus to go.

"…and me?" Throughout their conversation, the younger's anger towards his creator had increased considerably, but now they had reached a critical point; Wrath was about to learn the reason behind his creation, the motives Father had to turn a regular human into an almost supernatural being, and given what the rest had been like, he didn't expect something too positive.

"What can make someone that has the power to create anything feel so empty? What can fill their entire being with nothing but anger, hatred, and despair?" Using the other cases as reference, and Father's relationship with Hohenheim, Wrath could only think of one thing.

"Loss." Once again, his guess was right.

"That's it – Father was struggling to accept his creator wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't want to understand that his actions had consequences, that underestimating humanity made his only friend abandon him, and he refused to even think he was wrong, blaming everyone else. He couldn't be with Hohenheim again, he did know that much, but he lacked the power to destroy him, so he entrusted onto desperate humans the task of making him stronger using lies and empty promises – pretty hypocritical if you ask me. Then you became his emissary, and the rest is history. As of today he's still figuring out that whole Promised Day thing, but I doubt it'll go well."

The boy sounded casual about his factual explanation, as if it was of no importance, but in reality he couldn't adopt any other tone given how well he had gotten to know his creator; in the end, being Father's lapdog had turned out to be useful. In his loneliness, he confided in Pride, seeing him at times as the only one he could really trust. After all, it was Father who had driven the oldest homunculus to not get attached to anyone, so the bearded creature believed Pride spent time with him because he genuinely enjoyed it.

Of course, Wrath too had reached a conclusion.

"You're telling me… we've been slaves to a childish idiot's issues? To someone that seeks to sacrifice humanity… because he refuses to apologize?"

The shorter didn't get the chance to answer. As he was using the larger body as a hammock of sorts, seeing his brother's face was impossible unless he resorted to his shadows; however, he didn't need to. He had been feeling the tremors that originated from the führer's body, he could guess what was coming next.

"What a fucking moron!"

No, that wasn't King's anger. Learning the truth about his creator had transformed his previous rage into something else. First it was pity; pity for a fool weaker than any human he had ever met. And then… he could only laugh.

His guffaws didn't last too long, but the waters ran deep and fast; he was trying his best to keep himself from truly bursting into full-on roaring, and for that to happen he had to keep it all inside. Selim was still able to feel his laughter, though; the larger body was shaking and bouncing, and he could hear air escaping the younger's throat.

That had been the older's reaction when he put all the pieces of the stupid puzzle together as well, he knew what his brother was going through.

"C´mon, you can laugh at him, he's always been a terrible dad." And the führer obliged. Selim didn't but add gasoline to the fire by mocking their creator even further. "I've been mean to a friend but I don't wanna say sorry, I'm gonna kill the world! All humans are stinky but please you group of very nice people gimme nummies."

They reached a point where the two of them had to jump back in the heated pool; one trying to control himself, diving trying to stop the hysteric laughter that was starting to make it hard to breathe, and the other because he was attached to the roaring man. Nevertheless, that didn't stop the latter.

"You know what's the funniest part? That despite his name he has never once acted like a father. He doesn't remember our birthdays, he doesn't care if we're getting bullied at school – you are an infinitely better dad than he could ever be." Although not everything he said was a joke. That last part at least wasn't. The younger's laughter died down and his expression turned into a more serious one, yet his gaze still expressed glee.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." He truly did. However, he didn't know how to react in a situation like that given that the bar was stupidly low. He approached the shorter looking to hug him, not only to show gratitude for his words, but to give him some support in the water; the kid couldn't stay still unless he used his shadows, but those were unstable as well for the shadows in the hot spring were scarce and the one the child casted was changing shapes constantly. He didn't want the boy to become a buoy.

As he saw the other get closer, Selim began second-guessing his previous words. He didn't say what he said to get attention, he wholeheartedly believed his words.

"I mean it, brother. All the time I spent without a real shape, watching humans loving each other from afar, being neglected by my own creator…" The larger arms surrounded the older but didn't change his position; they simply prevented him from drifting away. King's attention was focused solely on his brother and he'd listen closely to what he had to say. "…I envied them, I wanted that too. And when I finally had the chance to look like one, to be with them… I couldn't get attached because I knew I'd lose them."

That explained much about his reaction to the taller's recent change of behavior; Pride never really wanted to reject humanity, quite the opposite, but he never had the chance to really spend time with them as his real self, he was only allowed to play roles and then leave. "I was happy when I heard I'd be working with you, pretending to be your son, you know? I liked you, and since it's you we're talking about, I believed the people you'd be with would be protected, that I could finally befriend someone, maybe get to know you better…"

While his experience so far hadn't been the borderline idealistic human interaction simulator he secretly wished for, the recent betterment and deepening of his relationship with his youngest sibling was something he wouldn't change for anything else in the world; he had met people he enjoyed spending time with, people that cared about him, people he cared about… but if he was carrying out a mission, it was bound to end against the wills of everyone but one selfish bearded homunculus.

And Pride doubted he could go through that again.

Wrath had seen the signs as the older spoke: trembling voice, quivering lips, pauses trying to keep his composure, refusing to look at the man he was talking to. Crying was starting to become something common, but after hearing everything Selim had to say and learning what he had to endure simply because their creator was too much of an idiot to understand that his actions affected others, the führer knew it was more than justified. The boy could cry all he wanted.

The younger gently caressed one of his cheeks in an attempt to convince the shorter to lift his head and look at him. He was reticent at first, but after the taller crouched he didn't have many alternatives. King could see how hard he was trying to hold back, stifling every breath and weep, clenching his fists and jaw childishly pretending to be calm, turning his sullen, painful gaze into a defiant one that threatened with giving in after meeting the other's tender, sympathetic eyes.

There was only one thing the fully human-bodied homunculus could tell his big brother.

"You don't have to be alone anymore."

Selim's mouth opened against his will. No words came out, only a series of gasps that shortly after became whimpers once his eyes weren't able to keep his teardrops captive any longer.

Something deep within his being cracked.

He lunged at the body that transmitted a feeling of peace and comfort he had been yearning for since his inception, for he could clearly see in his little brother the father he never had, the father his human side wanted and his homunculus nature had denied him, frantically gripping as much of the younger as his small hands allowed him to, bawling like the child he was independently of his centennial age, something the taller didn't intend to stop; he had much to let go of, but he was immensely thankful.

Despite his crying, Selim wasn't sad. In fact, he started to believe his period of sorrow was reaching its end. He never dared unveiling his real emotions, for above all of them loomed the fear of rejection and utter loss and whatever consequences they could entail, but now he had confirmation of those being reciprocated, and the assurance that they'd last without anyone's interference.

He'd keep on wailing in his brother's arms, thinking of all the times he had wished for his current present to happen, and soaking in the infinite joy that finally living it conferred.

He understood what being human felt like.

And if King could do so, he'd help the older live as a human. His upbringing and his life in general had never been filled with love, that was true, but he had at least experienced what it felt like – and in any case, now they had the chance to learn together. There were a myriad of feelings they were yet to discover too; fortunately they weren't alone, surely Mrs. Bradley had lots to teach them about what they had been missing.

Wrath wasn't an angry person by nature, but he had led a life full of anger, quiet rage for being aware he was a puppet but unable to do anything about it, unable to be anyone but the character he had been commanded to be, someone he despised.

Pride didn't want to reject anyone, he didn't think humans were below him, but until then he had never had the chance to behave like one without knowing it would end because someone else wanted that to happen.

However, making their wish of becoming their own persons true implied a risk, a loss.

If they didn't want to be puppets anymore, they'd have to eradicate the puppet master.

It took a while until the older found himself capable of moderating his mood and temper; he had to release many warm tears to keep his head cool. Even after calming down and making sure that he was in fact awake and not dreaming, he refused to let go of his dad-brother; he had become a limpet stuck forever to the man that liberated and comforted him, who had gone awfully silent after the boy was able to reduce his laments to occasional whimpers.

"What are you thinking about?"

"The absurdity behind all the blood that's been shed." From his position sitting with his face pressed against the larger chest, Selim couldn't see what the younger's expression looked like, but his somber tone helped him guess accurately that it wasn't cheerful. He had been absentmindedly rubbing the boy's back, recalling every single conflict and massacre, focusing especially on Ishbal.

While he wasn't neither directly responsible nor the one that incited the conflict, his role as führer had been key during the civil war; he had to pass the orders he had been given on to his men as their leader, he had to oversee the extermination of an entire race of people. He wasn't trying to find a way to excuse his actions, no; he was wondering if he could have done anything to prevent it from happening. At the time he was incapable of going against his superiors, and he wanted to know why – why wasn't he able to even tell one of his soldiers to stop when he didn't want that genocide to happen? What made him obey so blindly? Did he value his own life that much?

"You and I come from the same place." The boy could only imagine what was going through the taller's mind, but he too had questioned why he allowed his own actions to contradict his beliefs. "We're tools, puppets. You especially were inhumanely engineered to submit and comply without question, taking advantage of the mental weaknesses humans can develop; making you fear figures of authority, suppressing any emotions that were considered irrelevant, bloating your ego with a position of power, controlling you without you even noticing using threats, triggers developed through traumas, extorting you…"

After all, Pride had been observing Wrath's creation and development. He did remember everything the once human subject had repressed over time.

"I'm not guiltless either, so I cannot blame you, but if you ask me, if your hands have been dirtied it's because somebody else was holding them."

The man knew he shouldn't think that way, that he couldn't be forgiven for what happened, but a part of him was screaming he should believe Selim. No one had ever seen him as a victim in that situation; no person was privy to the dark motives behind all the lives that had been lost during his govern, and he never expected a homunculus to see him as another casualty. Was he akin to the many men and women that died without reason? Was he a survivor that had lost everything to war?

All he knew is that he wanted to thank the child. He did so, embracing and pressing him against his torso, repeating time and time again a series of low, desperate 'thank you' the boy didn't know how to interpret.

King was holding him as close as he physically could, ruffling his hair and kissing his head in between quiet sobs the older could feel and hear as they emanated from his brother. There wasn't much Selim could do other than wonder why his body felt like it was being massaged by millions of microscopic hands; he didn't know how to comfort him. Repeating that he believed he was innocent would be meaningless, that's what had made the man cry, but if he was thanking him for his understanding, he could offer a few more words.

"And after everything you have been through, you still have a personality and values of your own, and that only proves how strong you really are. I admire you, brother."

That was the boy's best.

The younger sibling's trembles and convulsive sighs seemed to have come to a halt. The older couldn't tell if he had helped him calm down, or if his pause was due to a new, worse realization.

When the taller pushed him back slightly, eager to see his face, he had his answer. The man couldn't help the smile that had taken control of his expression; he wasn't showing his teeth, but even the corners of his mustache had risen to pose next to two charming, adorable dimples Selim didn't know existed until then. He didn't have time to appreciate those as the younger's gleeful eyes had become his entire field of vision; their foreheads collided gently as the führer carefully pressed the boy's head against his, tenderly holding and stroking the softer cheeks with hands that doubted whether they should be doing that.

"You really are a sweet child, aren't you?"

The older's mouth was scarce centimeters away from his brother's. He could feel the man's tepid, humid breath tickling his neck and some of the most unruly hairs of his mustache brushing against his lips. Even if his organs weren't real, Selim could feel his intense heartbeat all over his body and his skin being shocked by tiny, invisible electric impulses; he didn't know if it was fear or anticipation, but his entire being was engulfed in anxiousness and certain eagerness... _desire_. He wanted to get even closer to the younger, yet he was unable to move. He didn't remember when he started breathing through his mouth, or when his fingers began fiddling around with the taller's chest hair, though he could tell something was about to happen, and whatever it could be, he'd welcome it with open hands.

The führer raised his head, kissing the boy's forehead as he returned to his previous position tapping the smaller shoulders. The shorter didn't move an inch, but a King imbued with pride for having someone as compassionate as Selim in his life noticed something.

"Are you sweating? I didn't know you could do that. Maybe we should get out, we've been in the water for a long time now."

In response, the first homunculus summoned two shadow arms that hurled him towards the showers, hitting the ground hard with such momentum that he slid directly into the wall. He stood up calmly as if nothing happened and turned the cold water on; he had been through something really powerful and he was sure there was steam coming out of his ears. He also felt stupid, somewhat pent up, and weirdly relieved, but all of those shared the same source.

The younger hurried to his side, asking if he was okay, but the shorter couldn't bring himself to look at him. He simply gave him a thumbs-up and kept on showering, covering his head with a blanket of shadows as he pretended he was washing those too.

Since they were out of the water, they could see the light – or lack thereof – that entered through the chamber's door, which made the taller suggest that maybe it was time to leave. Their goal was relaxing and at least he had achieved it.

Selim accepted he couldn't spend the rest of his life under the stream of water and at some point he'd have to talk again. Filling his mind with images of Gluttony eating entire cows to keep himself at bay, he turned to the taller, but he had the bad luck to catch him grabbing and smelling all their clothes, including their underwear, and then leaving them again where he found them saying "someone will come pick these up." The boy reached full squint as his incredulity reached its apex before diminishing quickly, wondering how different was the führer compared to the mental image he used to have of him.

Wearing nothing but towels around their waists because it was their state and no one could really tell them anything, the duo walked back to the main house. As it turned out, it was two in the morning, and for once the most important man of Amestris was going to make use of his power for his own sake – to call in sick the following day. They had to let him stay at home, right? They couldn't send anyone that'd make him go to work.

The shorter had already gotten over his strange, little, shameful afterglow and he was enjoying the comfortable silence and the chilly summer breeze with his… dear brother. However, the younger remembered something he believed was crucial and should have brought up earlier.

"We're, uh… we're going to kill Father and the others, aren't we?"

Oh right! The most important part was still pending.

"We have to in order to be able to live as we want. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts?"

"No, but I barely have free time. When are we doing it?" Man, the führer was excited; hearing that Selim admired him had activated some sort of positive engine within him. Still, they couldn't be too reckless; their enemies would put up one mean fight if they knew they were coming.

"Whoa there, do you have any plans?" In response the mustached man extended his arms, leaving his left palm open and punching it with his right fist, and looked at the shorter seeking approval. "…that's good, but what if we exchange tactics and go from there?" The younger accepted; his military life had taught him that two brains punched better than one.

The first homunculus's plan seemed solid: he had been befriending Gluttony for quite some time, and he had earned his trust, fear and respect, to the point he could scare him into leaving Lust's side. The boy thought of tricking him and using his scarce wits, eternal hunger, and interdimensional portal to at least get rid of their siblings; he knew it'd work if he told him the others wanted to put him on a diet or something stupid like that. Sure, Pride himself could also devour the other homunculi, but if he did that he'd acquire their vices and flaws as well, and that was a risk he'd rather avoid.

Father was a different story; taking him down would surely prove more difficult, but they could try using Gluttony as well. If he failed, Father would get rid of him for them while the duo stayed at a safe distance. It was half-baked and dangerous, yes, but after an eight hour-long spa and therapy session they were brimming with energy; the man felt it'd be alright if the boy was with him, and the older had been going over how to kill their creator for such a long time that actually doing it didn't feel real – he simply had to go with the flow.

Wrath was sold and eager to put it to practice. The older felt compelled to ask one last time if he was really ready to act, and in response the taller put on some sweatpants saying they were ready to leave. Succumbing to inexistent peer pressure, the first homunculus decided to wear a pair of identical pants his adoptive mom had bought him, prepared to end their brethren once and for all – besides, if the führer was going to skip work he could skip homeschool too and go to bed later, so they had time.

"First things first, we have to locate Gluttony."

Selim resorted to the underground tunnel Sloth was digging to send his shadows in search of the hungry boy, and luckily for them, he was alone having a midnight snack at a farm halfway between Central and Luza, a nearing rural town. Next, they'd have to find their objectives: Sloth was easily traceable and the one whose absence the rest wouldn't question right away, so Pride suggested taking him out first.

The younger agreed to follow that route as long as it didn't take too long: King knew of a few places where Lust and Envy might have been hanging out if Gluttony wasn't with them. The older checked if they happened to be in any of them, and lo and behold, they were. The pair of homunculi was in Central playing with some drunk, horny humans at a pub near the train station, surely looking to torture and/or kill them.

"I think I can distract those two while you go fetch Gluttony and take care of Sloth, but I have to ask you please hurry or they might notice I'm stalling for time."

"Sure, no problem, but we're going to need a rendezvous point."

Selim wouldn't ask what it was the younger had in mind; he had heard many times before the story of the time King met his wife and how those two were involved somehow. As opposed to Pride, the rest of his siblings saw Wrath as the little man still learning about the world, and as their younger brother they didn't consider him a threat.

On paper everything seemed fine so far, but there was an end that would have to remain loose: Greed. They couldn't locate him and they had no clue where he could be or what it was he could be doing; for a homunculus he had stayed a bit too quiet over the last century, even more taking into account that he was working for his own agenda, and they had no option but to let him live for the time being. Who knows, maybe he wasn't necessarily an enemy; perhaps he too wanted to mingle with humanity, make friends and pretend he doesn't worry about them, act selflessly… as far as they were concerned, he could very well be the first dissident of Father.

"Okay, let's move out!"

And so they did.

On Pride's side things went smoothly; Gluttony agreed to follow him after being told the rest of homunculi except for Wrath had been mean to him. Usually something like that wouldn't work, but it was Gluttony he was dealing with. The creature of infinite hunger genuinely believed Pride was a child, and as such he was unable to recognize him as something other than his little brother, even though only Wrath was younger than him. It only took a few whimpers and cutesy words from the kid – who had mastered them that very same day – and Gluttony's gate was ready to send his enemies to the shadow realm.

Sloth didn't see it coming; one moment he was shoving rocks, the next he was napping in what Pride knew would be his new home. Funnily enough, the lazy creature was thankful; in the dimension the chubby homunculus's stomach was he didn't have to dig anymore.

Next they hurried to the meeting point Wrath indicated. The shorter begged the heavier to be quick because their youngest brother could be in trouble, and he obliged without hesitation. They were headed to one of those hush-hush hotels where they ask no questions as long as you pay for the room, and if whoever worked there recognized the führer entering along two companions of dubious morals… well, it wouldn't be in their best interest. Besides, Selim didn't trust leaving Lust and Envy alone with his dad; those two liked torture and lacked respect towards the leader of Amestris.

When they were close, Pride used his shadows to scout the area and find what room the three homunculi were in. Once he did, the sight before him made him want to kill the sadistic duo himself; he only had time to see his younger brother on all fours on the floor as Envy clutched his face between his disgusting fingers and Lust sat on his back ready to do… something very humiliating to the mustached man, but that was enough for Pride to send everything he had.

He covered the outside of the story they were in with his solid darkness, taking advantage of the unsuspected location of the building and making sure the ones inside wouldn't notice him. The shorter pointed at the tinted window of the trio's room, letting Gluttony know they were hurting Wrath. The pudgy homunculus lunged forward without thinking twice, crashing through the wall and finding out that yes; Lust and Envy were hitting Wrath. The poor man had a shoe in his mouth and Lust was spanking him!

Since stealth wasn't an option anymore, Pride too entered forcefully using his wall of shadows, destroying the entire room and grabbing Lust with his physical penumbra before smashing her head against any surface available. Gluttony had consumed Envy before the multifaceted homunculus could even react, and to avoid having any emotional moments that could put the plan in danger, Pride threw the female-looking creature into Gluttony's stomach as well.

Of course, the chubby homunculus was sad after accidentally swallowing his babysitter, but the child convinced him that she wasn't the real Lust and that she had been taken over by something bad since Lust would never hurt her own. Satisfied with how events turned out, Pride suggested going to see Father since he could bring her back, which greatly cheered up Gluttony. For the time being, all Wrath could do was pretend to be hurt, but other than having to play a role he believed was silly, the plan had advanced without contradictions.

They couldn't celebrate just yet, though. Ending the lackeys hadn't been too difficult, but they were about to face the final boss. Normally Pride would have been at least a little worried, yet the position he found King in still disturbed and enraged him, so his main directive was finishing that whole thing quickly and ask the youngest homunculus what happened.

They left in the quietest way they could and took one of the nearby sewer holes that led to Father's room. Since the dissident duo had an extra associate, they couldn't talk freely about what would happen next; if using Gluttony failed, they didn't have much else to do. Perhaps telling Father the pudgy boy had gone on a rampage and the two of them had been trying to stop him?

And there they were, in front of the door that would take them– they didn't have time for an internal monologue either.

Gluttony entered the chamber Father could always be found in, and fortunately for the traitorous pair, the plump homunculus didn't burst in screaming for him. They followed him, and they did find Father before them, yes, but not in the way they expected.

The creature wasn't in his Hohenheim-doppelganger form; he looked like a huge eggplant cut in the shape of a person with the lower half of his body bent over his throne and his upper sprawled on the ground.

There was one thing the deflectors hadn't taken into account: while Father was an incredibly powerful being, he was also a single dad, and an absolutely terrible one at that. They didn't look at a calendar, so they didn't notice they'd be facing him on a Saturday at three in the morning, after he had gone out looking for someone to hook up with but got rejected countless times not only for having seven children and being homeless, but also for being an insufferable pompous asshole. He was at his weakest, reeking of cheap booze and snoring like a lawnmower. It was a golden opportunity.

The three of them stared at their creator in silence, judging the sight and wondering if they'd end up like that when they grew up. While they were at it, a sneaky little shadow arm grabbed Father by one of his stubby tube-shaped legs and threw him inside Gluttony's gate. None of them reacted.

Gluttony reverted to his regular state, which did catch the attention of the other two, and began tapping his belly. Wrath and Pride feared Father and the others were trying to escape, but that wasn't the case. The pudgy homunculus sat on the ground and simply said "I'm full" in a peaceful manner before turning into dust.

The pair could just observe as only the gate-creature's philosopher's stone remained. The child considered picking it up to destroy it, but the idea never got to materialize: the stone exploded into tiny shards that lost all color and dissolved before their very eyes.

The victors stood there in silence, looking around the room, and then at each other.

"So… that's it?" The younger had never seen Father in person more than a handful of times, but he felt like that couldn't be all. If the original homunculus was so scary and powerful, why did their win feel so empty? Was it one of those 'calm before the storm' situations? Were they supposed to think they had won for real and start celebrating before Father came back stronger than ever?

"I guess?" The boy-shaped artificial human couldn't really answer that question. While it was true he had spent more time with Father than anyone else, it was also a fact that their creator asked him to leave him alone two or three days at a time every now and then. He didn't expect that grabbing and tossing him into Gluttony would really work – that had been more of an unconscious reaction, but hey… he wasn't there anymore.

They agreed on one thing; the end had been the epitome of anticlimactic.

"I mean, they're in Gluttony's gate and its vessel has turned into powder. To come back I believe they'd need to perform a human transmutation, but there's no one else in there." Well, at least that was reassuring.

Originally the duo believed it'd be a fierce battle, that the odds would have been against them, that maybe some limbs would have been lost and some hidden truths uncovered, but that in the end they'd win thanks to the power of their newfound love. Pushing a drunkard down a hole had never been part of an epic tale… maybe it'd be a good idea to add some flash and flair. Out of context they almost seemed like the bad guys.

"Do you think you're going to miss any of them?" The boy wouldn't since his relation with all of the homunculi that were no more had been strictly professional or a farce, but perhaps the younger would; who knows, maybe he had a secret friendship with Sloth or something of the like.

"I only knew Lust and Envy; one liked to make me look bad when I first started dating my wife, and the other just came to give me Father's orders and to get candy from my office." Selim was certain the man's feelings matched his, although he didn't know his dad-brother was in possession of sweets he had never been offered. They'd need to have an important talk about it at some point.

Something that they didn't understand was why Gluttony had perished as well after consuming Father, and since they had the same knowledge, every theory they came up with was valid. They had no complaints; they were alive and well, and they didn't even have to dirty their matching sweatpants. Nevertheless, they would have liked to participate a bit more; Selim only whacked Lust around for a minute, and King just got slapped a couple times and got called a dirty dog. The chubby homunculus was the real hero in all that.

They stuck around for a while, searching Father's room for something of interest, but the only things there were many metallic tubes that connected to the throne in the middle of the space. The boy thought about destroying them for good measure, but there wouldn't be many willing to create philosopher's stones to give the original homunculus, would there?

"Oh, what are you going to do with all the people involved in Father's plans?"

There was a bunch of humans that had been doing several dirty jobs for him as well, and a good chunk worked under the führer's command. The younger too had considered what would be the correct way to condemn them for their actions, but traditional trials and penitence didn't feel right.

"Would you like to kill them?"

The child didn't have to think his answer much.

"Sure. Want me to destroy the laboratory too or stick to the wannabe immortals?"

Likewise, the younger didn't hesitate.

"If you could get rid of the mannequins as well that'd be just ideal."

"Chimeras too?"

"I suppose, yes… "

And with that out of the way, they were done.

They abandoned the facility not in shock, not with any interesting story to tell, not having lost a thing, but with their stomachs craving something tasty. On their way home they discussed if four in the morning was too early or too late to have breakfast, and that little, meaningless discussion carried more weight than Father's death. Perhaps it would set over time, like the loss of a loved one?

"By the way, what were Lust and Envy doing to you back there?"

"…I may have asked them to tell me how to spice things up in the bedroom."

"…you could have asked me."

…

"I… I only needed to distract them while you arrived. You know I don't have any-"

"Tip number one: take your socks off when you go to sleep."

"…can we please go back home in silence?"

"…number two… me? Please?"

"…"

"…"

"Do you mean it or do you like to joke about it because your appearance makes it awkward?"

"…I don't know."

It is possible that they were in shock and trying to cope with their new, sought after reality but had not realized. Positive surprises can leave lasting marks as well, even if you were expecting them.

* * *

Back in their mansion, and with no servants to satisfy any of their needs, the pair wandered from kitchen to kitchen retrieving any snacks they found in their way; Selim had a fun little idea they could carry out given nobody was there to stop them or judge them, but he'd keep the details to himself until he brought it into reality.

"I believe there are more sheets in the guest rooms' wardrobes, if you want me to bring them here."

"That's okay, I think I have enough. Now please, wait outside."

The führer had no option but to oblige and stand outside his own bedroom… which he usually shared with his wife. He could hear furniture moving and the older cursing after some dull sound went off, and deep down the man was a little scared; he still had no confirmation about the shorter's intentions towards him, and after confessing what ploy he had resorted to in order to keep Lust and Envy busy, he feared his big brother truly wanted to spice things up in bed. Sure, he couldn't feel anything and the pillowcase boy had the crotch of a doll, but he was in there with several bags of hot snacks; he couldn't know if after centuries studying humans the kid had discovered some sort of physiological secret.

"Okay! Come in!"

King was sure he was feeling what he should have felt when they faced Father.

In his excitement, the older used one of his shadow arms to open the door, only to find the taller standing there with his eyes shut and muttering something under his breath. Did he want to avoid spoiling his own surprise? How considerate!

The kid used his solid darkness to lead the still blinded adult into the room, and since prying his eyes open wouldn't be polite, he'd try screaming like the excited child he was once again.

"Ta-daaaaa!" A few seconds went by until the younger dared looking at what the boy had prepared… and he liked the sight before him.

"Oh, I see! It's like a military tent! The bed is the ground, this food is the rations, these chairs-" The huge, hopeful grin the older had been showcasing until then quickly turned into a little, forced smile to hide the pity he was experiencing; poor subject twelve and his lack of a proper childhood. However, they had reasons to celebrate, and as so Selim wanted to keep things positive.

"So close! This is a pillow fort; instead of talking about war we share secrets and instead of slapping men that show weakness we eat pastries." The smaller figure tapped the edge of the bed he was sitting on, which doubled as an entrance to the surprisingly big and complex lair he had built. To join him, the führer had to crawl carefully to avoid knocking anything off; as it turned out, pillows weren't a very solid foundation for a construction.

It seemed the boy had great talent for interior design; his fort consisted of several rooms that made use of all furniture in the room, expanding way beyond the bed, and somehow reached the private bathroom the younger had spent countless hours in grooming his mustache.

After finding a comfortable position and being treated to anything he could think of – making use of Selim's shadow limbs to bring into the room everything they didn't have at arm's reach – the taller asked what the reason behind their hideout was. All the child had to say was that he had wanted to build one for ages, and that after Father's defeat it made sense if they started doing things they never had the chance to do before; also, he had never had friends to play in one with, but that wasn't the case anymore.

That last part made the younger realize the changes not being a slave anymore would entail, and he found himself in a giddy mood he had never before experienced, which could also be attributed to how sneaky he felt inside the pillow fort.

"And what kind of secrets are we sharing?"

"Any kind. For example, what are you going to do with the country now that you're free to do as you please?"

Independently of his homunculus condition, the man's education had been exclusively oriented towards ruling Amestris, and since he didn't have to be the dark underground's spokesperson anymore, his answer only made sense.

"Nothing. After the fifth laboratory and the people Father worked with are disposed of, I will abandon my position and move on to bigger and better things. Luckily I'll be seen as a coward; I'll be giving up after a few public figures are murdered claiming I'm too scared to suffer the same fate, and as time goes by perhaps people will choose to forget me."

The boy wasn't too surprised. King had been engineered to become führer, but if he had developed his own ethos and desires after discovering his true nature, it was reasonable if he wanted to run away from what had been the source of all his pain. Maybe it was cowardly and selfish, yet Selim couldn't really say much; he had killed his creator in his sleep, that wasn't very brave.

"What can be bigger than ruling an entire country?" The older could only think of the world, but his dad-brother wouldn't have killed Father just to replace him, right?

"I spend my days daydreaming of owning a quaint, little tea shop with a small terrace surrounded by flowers and tea plants so the customers can see where their orders come from, serving drinks and pastries, maybe have a personal garden in the back…" That was the first time he ever talked about what until then had only been an unachievable dream for the younger, and he should have been insecure about doing so, but the situation was enticing him to share some of the thoughts that had never materialized into words.

The child was sitting across from him with his legs crossed and his chin resting on his palms, looking intently at his brother as he listened to what his imagination had to offer. Who knew that a man known for his bellicose prowess and his ruthless tactics could have such a sweet, homely dream? He found himself entranced by the taller's words, and the only thing he could say in response was a mesmerized "can I go?" to which of course the führer answered positively.

When asked about what it was he'd like to do, Selim didn't have much to say; he had never dared to think of having a more normal life, and things like jobs and routines were outside his field of view. The younger jokingly offered him a position at his tea shop, and the boy accepted right away.

As their conversation advanced, they tackled other topics like how silly and clichéd Father's plans really were; that whole 'I want to make the world mine because humans are stupid' sounded like it was taken from a comic book.

For a while their exchange devolved into talking shit about their lives as homunculi, and at the end, King Bradley suggested getting a new name; one that hadn't been given to him by someone that saw him as an object.

The older was especially keen on 'Adam,' and when the mustached man asked him if he had chosen it for religious reasons like their homunculi names, the shorter insisted that no, he just happened to like that name, and that his dad-brother looked like an Adam. He described a few of what he thought were traits men with such name had, like defined jaws, strong bodies, gentle eyes… and when the would be Adam questioned if those were characteristics all of them shared, the boy quickly replied that they didn't, but that he specifically did.

Realizing what he said, the child quickly suggested other names like 'Selim Two' or 'Selim Jr.,' adding that he didn't have to be an Adam if he didn't want to, which only made his face get redder after the taller asked if he'd have to call him 'dad' in that case.

"Let's keep it at 'brother' when we're alone for now." To get his point across he brought up scenarios like "what would mom think if she heard you calling me that?" On that occasion the older was completely aware of his words, and when the other said "you like her, don't you?" referring to his wife, the boy's response was a rotund "of course, why wouldn't I?" that summoned matching, gleeful, silly expressions on both of their faces.

It seemed their liberation could also turn them into a real family.

They really had done it, they had put an end to the source of their suffering, and with the blessing of God, or the world, or the Truth, or whatever you'd like to call it, they'd move on to pursue the lives they really wanted.

By the time the sun was up and the rest of Amestris was attending to their duties, father and son were snuggled up in bed and dreaming about whatever else becoming human would bring them.

_**Fi-**_

.

.

.

.

However, they were awakened by Mrs. Bradley shortly after. She had returned home earlier than expected for reasons she began exclaiming when she entered the mansion, but came to an absolute halt after seeing the mess his husband's study had been reduced to. She read the sticky note on the door.

Able to feel her spouse and son's life-force, she advanced steadily towards the master bedroom, careful not to increase her power too much, which was a difficult task as her fury kept growing exponentially.

She reached the room that was also hers, and when she opened the door, the cute image of her husband and kid cuddling in bed as they woke up…

…wasn't enough to save them.

Mrs. Bradley knew about Wrath and Pride's real identities and abilities, and she found them adorable; they were even allowed to play with them in the house as long as they were careful and didn't break anything. But they hadn't only disobeyed that rule; they had also destroyed her property and turned her room into some sort of poor people shack.

They would experience real pain, for they had enraged the one, true ultimate life form.

…

…

…

* * *

**And that's it!**

* * *

"Sir, please forgive my intromission, but there are rumors going around about you and your son having been seen on the street late at night."

"Ah, yes! We're now getting into this jogging fad."

"...jogging, sir?"

"Of course. It is important to teach children that exercise is- haha, I'm kidding; we had some mean munchies and wanted some Doritos."

"...uh, president führer, I believe I-"

"If you're against my choice of giving my very small son marijuana you better be skilled at sword fighting, because an offense like that wouldn't go unpunished."

"I'm so glad you're leaving, you old, insane coot."

Ruining his public image was also part of the future former führer's plans of becoming a regular person.

* * *

"Hey Selim, do you think I look too old? I see people wondering if I'm your grandpa instead of your dad…"

"Not at all! You have some expression lines, dimples, fine crow's feet – and all of those are associated with gentle and funny people because it's believed they appear if a person smiles and laughs a lot. If anything you look like an interesting man in his forties."

"Aw, you're such a nice little chap. I must say, you don't look a day older than eight yourself."

"That's because I've been using mom's anti-aging cream." The boy reached for the product, wanting to apply some and tell his father about all its properties, but after just dipping his finger in the ointment, his childish form turned to dust, the shadow within him screamed in anguish, and after a flash of light the only creature before King Bradley's eyes was a very, very tiny baby.

"…dada, help m-"

The führer stomped on the fetus until it became a red stain on the sole of his boot and went on with his day.

.

.

Or alternatively he carefully picked him up, raised him as his real son along his wife, and led a happy life.

* * *

"Dad, they've called me from Japan! I got a job!"

"Congratulations, Selim! What is it about?"

"I'll be acting in a movie, they say I'm perfect for the role of Tentacle monster #3"

"I know where this joke is going and I don't like it. You're not leaving this house until you turn 800. Also grandpa Hohenheim will be living with us for a while and you'll have to share your room."

"...there's sixteen more in this house."

"Yes, but you killed the funny chimeras too even though I told you to kill them without specifying if I wanted any left alive, and as a human I can be more irresponsible, idiotic, hypocritical and passive-aggressive."

"I will devote my life to finding a way to make your genitalia functional so I can kick you in the balls and make you cry."

* * *

And everybody lived a happy, eternal life. Never die, never sad.

The Elric brothers accidentally got a philosopher's stone during Bradley's farewell ceremony when the former dictator gave it to them thinking it was candy. Since they didn't know how it was made, they simply used it and got their bodies back.

Scar asploded all the faces.

Bradley's tea shop became so successful that it turned into its own coffee shop AU where everyone is gay and blushes constantly. You're part of it too.

Izumi got cool surgery and ended up with 3 wombs. She and her husband had many children. Sig left her when he realized he loved me instead.

Alex Armstrong ascended to Absolute Führer God and established a new nationwide rule; all twinks in the country had to admire his beauty. Amestris obtained unprecedented splendor.

Greed and his pals were aight.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the unnecessary and borderline illegal homo-suggestive scenes :) If they could be in the Goofy movie they can be here too**

**This has been 'Projecting: the fanfic.' And in case you were considering challenging me, I just proved my daddy issues are far greater than yours**

**It took so much self-control to not make them fully gay that I'm even proud. Just imagine: they're brothers, one looks like a child and has tentacles, the other can get away with literally anything and the official data book says he loves pee... writing smut would be wrong, I don't wanna culturally appropriate Japan :) you can call me a hero if you want it's ok i'm very very humble you wouldn't believe how much**

**,**fox soon

So do you have a Big Angry Man But Soft fantasy too?


End file.
